The Rise Of The Black Queen
by James Jago
Summary: The Queen of Spades has an eye on the vacant Throne of Wonderland. Alice has no intention of letting that pass, and whether he likes it or not, her new boyfriend Jeremy is along for the ride!
1. Prologue

Not sure if I need a disclaimer; I think the books are public domain these days, but it's not like I'm making any money off this anyway.

I haven't actually finished the game yet, but this has stuck firmly in my head and I thought, 'What the hell, bang it out!'

Alice's Diary, Jan 4 1876:

Three years out of that ghastly hole of an asylum! Hurrah!

Aunt Susan's being her usual helpful self, warning me off that young man I met at whichever dull affair we were at yesterday. So what if Jeremy Greenslade's a notorious rake? I find that edge of danger most alluring... and besides, he was at least as bored as I was, and made me laugh. As anybody who knows me ought to know, that takes some doing.

Anyhow, I shall be spending the evening out of the house. Dear old Aunt Susan, if you could see me tonight!

She walked through the city with the cool, self-assured poise of one who knows well that of all the terrors of the night, none are greater than herself. The show had been amusing enough, and the bar to which she was headed held the promise of a few quiet drinks and maybe a hand of cards. She played a fine hand of poker.

She became aware of the three men shortly before they became aware of her, though she carried on as if oblivious. They approached in what they probably thought was a stealthy fashion. "Now, what brings a well-heeled young lady such as yerself to a part of town such as this?" their leader enquired in a gin-sodden voice.

"I was looking for a good time. Now, if you don't mind, I'm meeting somebody at the Horse and Groom."

"Not so fast, missy," said one of the others, grinning crookedly. "We're lookin' for a good time too. And there ain't many better lookin' than you!"

"Oh, do bugger off!"

"Feisty little tart, ain't yer?" They advanced, brandishing a selection of weapons.

Alice merely laughed, and opened her bag. "Care to cut cards?" she enquired coolly. They paused, a literally fatal error.

They weren't exactly Wonderland-grade, but anybody seeing the remains of the old dartboard in her room would have hesitated to laugh at the idea of peeling apart the layers of a pack of playing cards and inserting half a dozen razor blades in each. The ringleader was struck just above his eyebrow, severing an artery. Another took a card to the throat with similarly messy results. The survivor gave the odds some very brief thought and legged it.

"That was depressingly easy," Alice grumbled, retrieving her cards with care. She hadn't even been able to use the Vorpal Blade, the only souvenir she'd been able to wangle out of the Cheshire Cat. Ah, well.

She entered the bar, getting some appraising looks from the newer clients. The regulars had learned very quickly and in no particular order that Alice A: was not a prostitute, B: took exception to uninvited advances and C: possessed a mean right hook.

"Evening, Miss Liddell," a familiar voice said from a nearby table. Alice turned, and her surprise melted into a smile of genuine warmth, rare for her at the best of times.

"Jeremy!"

He was tall, though a little less so than her. His fine sandy hair invited a woman to run her hand through it, and his features had a youthful innocence that made young ladies simper. "Not a dry gusset in the house," Alice had remarked somewhat sourly when first sighting him. But he was genuinely witty and treated her as a complete equal, an attribute that Alice prized. "Care to join us?" he asked. "Come, sit down and meet some friends of mine. Edward, Thomas, this is the charming young lady I met at that dreary Hunt Ball in Sussex the other day."

"I've been accused of many things," Alice replied with mock-hauteur, "but never charm!"

"You do yourself a disservice," Jeremy laughed. "Care to join us in a friendly hand of whist? If you're new to the game I'll gladly teach you, though it seems a touch unlikely if your reputation is even half-true; the poker players hereabouts call you the She-Wolf!"

"Is that a complement?"

"Depends on how much money you've taken them for lately!"

Alice laughed. "Well, I'm something of a dab hand with cards when I'm of a mind to be. Please, deal me in." The messily expiring footpads a few dozen yards away could have testified to that.

They dealt her in, before having their notecases summarily depleted by Alice's skilled handling of her cards. Edward pocketed his deck and moved to another table after fifteen minutes, Thomas following soon after. Jeremy merely laughed. "Never very gracious losers, those two, especially after four pink gins apiece."

"You on the other hand were the perfect model of gentlemanliness in defeat. Is that a word? Never mind. Perhaps I should buy them a round by way of consolation?"

"I doubt they'd take it in the spirit in which it purports to be intended," Jeremy replied. "Another glass of wine?"

"Why not?"

It was midnight when Alice climbed carefully in through her window, and hastily stripped off the sheer, figure-hugging dress she kept at the back of her wardrobe. She curled up under her eiderdown, smiling slightly as she recalled the banter between herself and Jeremy. "I shall get to know him better," she resolved. "If I really _must_ marry somebody... what the devil am I thinking? I've met him exactly twice!"

"He does possess that certain something, though, doesn't he?" a sultry voice remarked from the shadows. "A young man of hidden depths, I feel."

Alice treated the Cheshire Cat to a glare of which the Red Queen would have been proud. "The day I take guidance from you regarding affairs of the heart is the day I'll take holy orders, old friend! Speaking of which, Dinah has increased dramatically in girth these last few days. Know anything about that?" Dinah the Younger had been a foundling, taken in against Aunt Susan's better judgement. Her getting in the family way by the likes of this specimen would have reinforced Aunt Susan's position no end.

"Now now, Alice, a true gentleman does not kiss and tell."

"I might have known! If you've given her some ghastly feline clap I'll have your fleabitten hide for a hearthrug, you letcherous bastard!"

"Ah! Your words cut deeper than your blade!" He moved into view, and Alice was pleased to note that he had regained most of his former sleekness but none of his girth. The grin faded dramatically. "Alice, I came here for a purpose. Dark forces gather upon the horizon, and soon you may be called upon to fight to preserve all that you helped build. Trust your skills, your wits and your weapons, and also your heart. As that neurotic magician's prop Rabbit would undoubtedly point out, time grows short. You were the saviour of Wonderland, and you must soon become it's guardian!"

"Forewarned is forearmed, old puss. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome. But if you call me 'old puss' once more I shall spray in your wardrobe!" He faded out, grin last.

Jeremy Greenslade scanned the alleyway with great care, gripping his cane until his knuckles whitened. Where the hell was that carriage?

There were at least eight of them in the shadows, he knew perfectly well. One or two he could have handled; the pearl-handled revolver in his coat pocket would have seen off most assailants. A group of eight men was another affair, especially if they had firearms of their own. He gripped the slightly foppish cane he affected, readying himself.

"Spare some change, guv'nor?" somebody behind him said with menace. Jeremy whirled, twisting the pommel of his cane and withdrawing a wickedly sharp blade. Swordsticks are often thought impractical and faintly ridiculous, but this one had enough weight and edge to fare well in serious combat. Jeremy had seen to that. The startled footpad raised his cosh, but the tip of the blade was under his chin before he could strike.

"Throw away that cosh and start backing away or I'll kill you where you stand. Your friends back there couldn't reach me in time. Even a bullet would have too far to travel. Maybe that concerns them, maybe it doesn't, but it certainly makes no difference to your predicament. Now, on the count of three we'll both start walking backwards..."

A revolver crashed, striking sparks from the cobbles. "Oh, bugger," Jeremy concluded.

There was a whirring noise, and somebody screamed. Jeremy took advantage of the distraction to sheath his blade and draw his revolver instead. Fully a dozen shots were fired, panicky snaphots that hit nothing but a streetlight, which exploded. "Run!" a familiar voice instructed. Jeremy was disinclined to argue. Alice had two revolvers of her own, snub-nosed .455s. Jeremy felt his long-barreled .38 to be downright effeminate by comparison. "The police are going to ask some very awkward questions if we're still here when they turn up," she warned. "Come on, I know a shortcut." Slightly bemused, he complied. They ducked down an alley as several enraged would-be robbers thundered past in hot pursuit. In flagrant disregard of dramatic convention, one of the brighter ones doubled back. Alice spun, hurling a card. The man went down.

"My God. You really are a dab hand with a pack of cards, Alice," Jeremy remarked, once he'd remembered to close his mouth.

They ended up crouching on the roof of an abandoned grain warehouse, huddled beneath Jeremy's overcoat as the rain sheeted down. "Where did you learn that little card trick of yours, then?" Jeremy asked.

Alice thought long and hard before answering. "It's a bit of a long story," she began.

"Well, I've got no pressing engagements."

"Alright, here goes."

It took nearly two hours. Jeremy stayed mainly silent, though he asked for the odd clarification. "It's amazing," he concluded. "Too amazing to be untrue. You really are a very complicated girl, Alice Liddell."

"You really have understatement down to a fine art, my dear fellow. So, shall we make for our beds, or carry on enjoying ourselves?" He laughed.

"I know a pleasant little tavern not far from my lodgings. But won't your aunt be worried?" Alice didn't miss the implications, and didn't altogether dislike them either.

"She's taking a cure in Bath. Lead on, ladykiller."

It was midnight when they left, leaning on one another and giggling tipsily. "So," Alice said, slurring her words only slightly, "I suppose that now you've got me drunk you plan to sling my helpless form over your shoulder and have your wicked way with me in the privacy of your lodgings."

"You don't sound especially alarmed at the prospect. In fact, given that I'm at least thirty percent more intoxicated than you, I have a sneaking suspicion that you were plotting something similar against myself." Jeremy grinned. "I find that prospect very far from alarming."

"Well, the thought _did_ cross my mind," she admitted dryly. "After all, there must be something you have that most young men don't. Or at least not as much!" They both roared with laughter.

"Myself, I think that technique, patience and finesse are the most important element. And I like to think I have all three in reasonable supply."

"Well, perhaps I'll let you demonstrate one day," Alice said with a bewitching little smile. "But for now, I'll content myself with the merest sample..." She leant across and gently kissed him. Jeremy responded, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. Alice threw her own arms around him and clung to him as hard as she could, fireworks exploding all through her body and every nerve screaming that a kiss could never be enough for even an hour.

When they parted, it was from lack of breath; they were both gasping as if they had narrowly escaped drowning. "Alice," Jeremy said quietly. His eyes said all that needed to be said. _He'd felt it too_. This notorious rake had been as deeply affected by Alice's first kiss as she had. Her mind found room amongst emotions she could never have catalogued or articulated in a hundred years for a little pride in that.

"To hell with the merest sample," she said briskly, and kissed him again.


	2. The Seige Of The Fortress of Doors

Author's Note: Apologies for skipping over the more, ahem... intimate details if you like that sort of thing (I can take it or leave it, in print anyway), but my personal embarrassment threshold is rather high. I'm also not 100 certain if the Maxim had been invented in 1876, so apologies to any military history buffs if I'm out by a couple of years!

* * *

They lay together in a tangle of blankets, sleepy and smiling. Alice curled up into the hollow of his arm, almost purring. Jeremy placed one arm across her chest, idly stroking her hair. She sighed blissfully, basking in the afterglow of what had passed between them. He'd been gentle, patient and totally dedicated to her enjoyment of the act. Supposedly this was supposed to be painful the first time, but Alice had placed herself in the hands of an expert. After their encounter, they had lain together talking of many things. Alice had ambitions to become a painter, Jeremy was studying to be an architect. He spoke of his brothers, his family's home in Shropshire. Alice spoke of her Aunt Susan, her life in London, her secret midnight explorations of the rooftops and alleyways.

"So, do we let Aunt Susan know we're... hmm, there's a thought. Are we sweethearts?" she wondered. "Oh, don't look like that. I'm more than aware of your reputation. As a matter of fact, I rather like it. It gives you that edge of danger. Anyway, is this a romance, or just-"

"Alice, it can be anything you like." The sincerity of his voice took her by surprise. "I honestly don't think there's another girl in all the world I'd look at twice after getting to know you. I've dallied with my share of young ladies, certainly, but how many of them had that biting wit of yours? Or could thrash me at whist and drink me under the table? And then behind that icy exterior there's all that warmth and humour you hide so well, but let out to show me. You're beautiful, Alice, at every level."

Alice was genuinely speechless. "I never thought I'd find a girl I could bear to marry, but by God, you just say the word and I'll find a willing vicar in half an hour!" Jeremy declared.

"Well, if I really _must_ marry, you're probably as good as it's going to get," she replied, getting some of her poise back. Jeremy cringed.

"Only you...!" he sighed. They burst out laughing and threw their arms around each other. "I love you, Alice. God help me, I love you even when you cut me dead!" he laughed.

Alice's Diary, Feb 15 1876:

Well, it looks as though I really will be getting to know Jeremy Greenslade better... One thing I've found out, though; he tips the velvet like a master craftsman!

For all my flippancy on the subject, I honestly feel I couldn't bear to grow old without him. Truth be told, I find the concept somewhat frightening. I can face down all the devils in Hell (or the Land of Fire and Brimstone, which is close enough for me) with nary a blink but the thought of life without Jeremy chills me to the marrow. I take great pride in my, how shall we say... self-sufficiency, so this is more than a little disturbing.

To summarise, I never thought I'd say these words, but... I am in love. I, Alice Patricia Liddell, love Jeremy Greenslade.

Oh, and Cheshire, if I EVER catch you reading this again I'll shove the Diabolical Dice up your arse. You will not receive a second warning.

They agreed to meet in secret every Saturday at midnight, outside a particular tavern. It was a somewhat unconventional courtship; they spent most evenings in smoky halls listening to raucous vaudeville and playing cards. "This is becoming bloody expensive!" Jeremy complained good-naturedly after losing particularly hard to her.

"Oh, cheer up. I'll spend every last farthing on a wedding dress!" she joked, causing him to choke on his beer.

Their decorous and subtle courtship within the framework of the usual round of balls and outings organised to parade marriageable young women to the families of marriageable young men and vice versa were a world apart, but at length somebody realised that Jeremy had been entirely uninvolved with scandal since his introduction to Alice Liddell. His parents hastily sounded out her aunt, who was more than a little impressed that her often wayward niece could have such an effect on this equally wayward young man. Perhaps they could keep one another out of trouble, she speculated. Eventually, she took Alice aside and raised the matter with her.

Alice folded her arms and rocked back and forth on her heels, a slightly arrogant gesture that Jeremy found rather attractive but everybody else loathed. "Aunt Susan, I'm sure you're aware of how I feel at being expected to bear a man's children, run his house and iron his newspapers. If I marry, it will be to a man of my own choosing and in my own time. Out of idle curiosity, who did you have in mind?"

"Since you ask, Jeremy Greenslade's parents have remarked that he hasn't got himself mixed up in God knows what sordid affair since you... Whatever are you giggling about?"

"Aunt Susan, I've been courting Jeremy in secret for the last three months!" Alice gasped, falling into fresh paroxysms at her aunt's expression.

Nervously, Jeremy headed for the tavern. One hand clung tightly to his cane, whilst the other fingered the velvet-covered box in his pocket. "Showtime, old chap," he told himself.

Alice was waiting for him in a hansom cab, with a huge ginger tomcat sitting erect beside her. It appraised him coolly as he got in. The cab moved away without any instruction to the driver; evidently he had received prior orders. The kiss they exchanged was brief but passionate.

"So who's your friend?" Jeremy enquired.

"Let's just say he's an old associate from times of adversity," Alice replied, stroking the Cheshire Cat with affection. He grinned.

"Good evening, Master Greenslade. I have heard much about you from Alice."

Jeremy stared at them in complete amazement. "I... You... He... _The sodding cat just spoke to me!"_ he said in a strangled voice. He took several deep breaths. "I'm sorry, I should have known better, but I wasn't really prepared for the full reality of it. You are the Cheshire Cat of whom Alice has spoken, I take it?" Feeling slightly foolish, he extended his hand. They shook solemnly.

The cab came to a halt in Hyde Park, and Alice led Jeremy to a remote stand of trees. There was a small trapdoor leading into the ground, which Jeremy took to be a groundskeeper's store and Alice's chosen venue for some alfresco spooning. Where exactly the Cat fitted into this scenario was something he was trying very hard not to think about, though Alice could never be accused of lacking imagination...

"Follow me, Jeremy!" Alice called, unlocking the trapdoor with a key she'd had hanging around her neck and stepping through. With a scream, she fell as if stepping over the edge of an abyss. Jeremy lunged to catch her, but merely fell headlong. _"Shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i..."_

WHAM! "_...i-i-i-t!_ Ow! Alice? Alice!" Jeremy was disturbed to find that he was tumbling down a shaft that seemingly lacked a bottom. It was lined with shelves containing all kinds of things, one of which he had just off bounced rather painfully, and though none of their contents seemed immediately useful to Jeremy in his present predicament he regarded them as a potential source of salvation. He spread his arms and legs and stabilised himself in a fashion familiar to modern skydivers, then grabbed for a sturdy-looking shelf holding a dozen hefty encyclopaedias. He ended up clinging to the shelf above, legs scrabbling for a purchase on the one below. "Right," he said quietly once he'd regained his breath. "All downhill from here... Oh, _why_ did I have to put it like that?"

He took a firm grip on the row of books with one hand, ensuring that they wouldn't move under his weight, then began to lower himself very carefully to the next shelf. The Cheshire Cat appeared at the rear of the bookshelf, which was considerably deeper than Jeremy had realised. "If you don't mind, I'd rather you reached the bottom _this_ year," he said icily, giving the row of books a push.

"Wait! _Wait! _Nonononoaaarrr_rrrRRRGGGHHH__!"_

The crashes, thuds and imprecations took several minutes to die out, but eventually there was silence. "I'm going to kill that bloody cat," Jeremy muttered from the blackness.

Alice located him by feel, and helped him to his feet. "Anything broken?"

"I don't think so. Your old comrade-in-arms, however..."

"I know. He might have warned me! Come on, I can see a light over there."

They emerged into a small village, chocolate-box pretty but curiously out of scale, as if it were being viewed through a sheet of distorted glass. It made Jeremy's eyes water slightly, though Alice seemed used to it. A crowd was waiting, all of them short and many of them sporting waist-length beards. _Gnomes, _Jeremy guessed. _Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice would undoubtedly put it... though I'm damned if that's a proper word!_

Alice was immediately mobbed, and carried upon the shoulders of the crowd to the village square. Jeremy trailed behind, feeling a little dazed. They reached the square, where a huge table was laid with all manner of food and beverages. A banner reading 'Welcome Home Alice' was stretched between the buildings.

Alice broke from the crowd for a few moments, and went over to Jeremy. "Welcome to Wonderland," she said quietly, kissing him on the cheek.

Half an hour later, Jeremy found himself sitting next to her near the head of the table, listening to semi-intelligible small talk and feeling well and truly out of his depth. What the next few hours held was beyond his capacity to guess, but he had a sneaking suspicion that an opportunity to ask for Alice's hand in marriage would be sorely lacking. He was acutely aware that he was probably the least mentally unconventional person at this end of the table. Sanity, defined by the subjective standards of the society he was compelled to inhabit, had never struck him as a disadvantage before. _Odd, really,_ he mused. _I list 'thinking in mildly unusual ways' as one of my hobbies, but I've always prided myself on being a rational, clear-headed thinker... most of the time, anyway. What the hell _is_ sanity, anyway?_ He sipped reflectively at his tea, pondering this concept.

The Cheshire Cat appeared in a state of uncharacteristic agitation. Jeremy immediately rose, intending to give said feline a good kicking, but stopped at the sight of his expression.

"The Black Queen is upon us!"

"What? Who?"

"The Queen of Spades!"

"That hellion has a sister?" Alice groaned.

Further comment was curtailed by the platoon of assorted card guards who appeared over the horizon. Jeremy immediately drew his revolver and opened fire, not fully grasping what he was seeing but knowing trouble when he saw it coming and being a firm believer in the principle of successful attack being the most effective defence. Alice whipped out her own pistols and followed suit (no pun intended). Eighteen card guards fell. The remainder drew back, the red guards lowering their staves and making ready to launch fire-diamonds.

"Check fire!" somebody ordered imperiously.

The family resemblance was noticeable, though she was in rather better shape than her sibling. Even the dress was similar. The Queen of Spades glared at Alice with unconcealed contempt. "Well, well, well. The prodigal returns, and with a gentleman friend in tow! How nice."

"What do you want?" Alice demanded.

"To assert my claim to the throne of Wonderland, and avenge my murdered sister. In that order of precedence, I might add; she was always tiresome, even as a child."

"If I might make an observation," began an elderly gnome, "your dear departed sibling's rule wasn't exactly just and tolerant, if you take my meaning. I'd like to raise the possibility of a constitutional monarchy, with precautions against any repeat of past... unpleasantness, shall we say? The establishment of a parliament, certain restrictions of royal prerogatives-"

"Oh, don't be silly, man!" she laughed.

"Quite a lot of things are about to happen," the Cheshire Cat remarked to Jeremy, "and very few of them will be pleasant. By the way, I shall never decide whether a man who carries an engagement ring in one pocket and a revolver in the other is demonstrating great cynicism, great forethought or both."

"Very droll. Oh, and when this is all over we're going to have _very serious words_ about that business with the encyclopaedias, you mangy little sod..."

The card guards forestalled any further comment by charging. Jeremy drew his swordstick and neatly bisected the leader, an Ace of Clubs. Aces, he later discerned, were non-commissioned officers of some sort. Leaving the blade buried in his opponent, he hefted the deceased card's mace and tossed it to the nearest gnome before retrieving his weapon. Alice was hurling playing cards like throwing stars, achieving decapitations with each shot. Once her deck was exhausted she drew the Vorpal Blade and waded in for all she was worth. Seizing fallen weapons, the gnomes were fighting with the courage of desperation. Alice, by contrast, seemed to be rather enjoying herself.

Within fifteen minutes, the Black Queen was calling for a retreat. It had been a vicious but inconclusive affray, with a number of dead and wounded on both sides.

"That sort of victory we can well do without in future," Alice remarked sourly. "We have to make a stand somewhere. How's the Fortress of Doors these days?"

"It stands, manned by the remnants of the old King's personal guard. And there is a great deal contained within the school that should be kept well out of the Black Queen's hands!" the Cheshire Cat declared.

"I'll say," Alice agreed. "Then we'll make our stand there. What of the rest of Wonderland's inhabitants?"

"The chessmen are at war, but the only peace you ever get from them is the sort where everybody's busy rearming. I advise leaving them and the Land of Fire and Brimstone to their own unspeakable devices. However, several nests of Soldier Ants are loyal to our cause. With a little Jumbo-Grow, we'll have an army of a hundred thousand rifles at our side!"

"Then to the Fortress!"

"I know precisely what I'm seeing," Jeremy said quietly, "but please don't ask me to believe it." He'd spent most of the short and bumpy ride in an overloaded dirigible clinging desperately to the side of the basket, convinced his final hour had come. Being on solid ground had been of limited reassurance, given that it didn't appear to be attached to anything in particular.

Things had been rationalised somewhat. The outer gates had a sort of jetty leading away from them, and the area surrounding the school had been paved over. It was still none too comforting. The interior had been spruced up inside, as well. The holes in the floor had been repaired and the décor considerably renovated. The children had been returned to their families in the village, treated as best as they could be. "They were mainly Hatter's failed behavioural research experiments," the commander of the Knaves explained. He was fundamentally a card guard, but with the image of a 'Jack' and fancier trim, and wore a sheathed cavalry sabre. "The last really successful counter-attack we brought off evicted him from round here, but we had neither the logistical resources nor the inclination to exert ourselves holding it when everything was going to hell in a handbasket across the board. The Red Queen deployed a token garrison, Hatter found other ways to amuse himself, and the place was pretty much abandoned. We've been bivouacking here while the place was being set to rights for want of anywhere else to go, and mucking in with the workmen."

"What's your fighting strength?" Alice asked.

"Eighty swordsmen and twenty fire-dealers. Not enough to maintain a siege on our own."

"That's not promising. We've got some two hundred able-bodied gnomes, all with more enthusiasm than formal training and perhaps a dozen fire-staves between them. Cheshire had just better get results with that diplomatic mission of his," Jeremy muttered grimly. "I'm going to see what can be done to strengthen that entranceway. Oh, and Alice? This is the last time I let you plan a date!" He was only half joking.

The Cheshire Cat appeared, his grin even wider than usual. "I have secured a deployment of two hundred Soldier Ants to our position; their queen could spare us no more at this time, but plans her own offensive against the Black Queen's more diminutive allies and will send further reinforcements as soon as her own position is secure."

"I'd hoped for twice that, but we've a fighting chance now. They say one needs a three-to-one numerical advantage against a fortified opponent, which I very much doubt they've got, and if we can toughen up the gateway and establish good fields of fire we can hold for days."

The Soldier Ants were lead by a captain called Skal. He and his lieutenants spoke good if accented English, and their NCOs had some.

"I regret that we are all that could be spared," Skal admitted. "High Command would have gladly sent a full regiment of infantry and a machine-gun company, but three neighbouring colonies are making threatening noises. I lobbied for more, but I only have two Maxim guns."

"Maxims? Machine guns? This is better than I dared hope for!"

They were later to learn that Caterpillar had been making quite a profit combining knowledge of the Getting-Small Elixir's formula with contacts in Alice's own world (including the Hong Kong Triads) to sell the fruits of earthly industry to anybody in Wonderland with the capital and the urge to own any of it until they succeeded in reverse engineering it to the point where they could build their own. The Soldier Ants were a typical example. Fully assembled items like guns, machine tools and even a Watts beam engine had been miniaturised and handed down for a hefty price, and the ants were now in the process of industrialising their society. Skal's colony had standardised on a somewhat modified Martini-Henry in .40-calibre, a single shot breech-loading design used by the British Army. It was rugged, reasonably accurate and was quick to reload, and would persist in military service until the end of the century when displaced by forerunners of the legendary Lee-Enfield; the action is still popular with competition marksmen.

They positioned the Maxims carefully, placing one directly over the main gate and the other in the eaves of the school. The crew were under strict orders to hold their fire unless the gates were brought down or some breach occurred, ensuring a deeply uncomfortable surprise for a card guard incursion. The Knaves and gnomes equipped with fire-staves lined the battlements, along with two platoons of ants. The remainder were deployed at every stairwell, doorway and bottleneck they could find, along with most of the gnomes. A small picked band of gnomes and the Knaves who lacked fire-staves were in the courtyard, ready to exploit any withdrawal the card guards would eventually be forced into with a swift counter-attack. Needless to say, Alice and Jeremy were with this party.

The Black Queen's force appeared aboard a host of flying black galleons, fire-dealing cards at the gunwales. They circled the fortress, seemingly uncertain of their next step. The Black Queen or whoever she had placed in charge was presumably aware that each angle of approach was well guarded, and that to attack only one potential weak point was a waste of time, effort and manpower. Eventually, a decision was reached. Four ships detached from the main flotilla to probe the defences. The remainder of the fleet remained well to the rear, waiting to engage whichever point of entry showed most promise.

They'd wait a while yet. Two ships moored alongside the 'jetty', which was a score of yards wide and perhaps a quarter-mile long. Short bursts from the Maxim over the gate and steady harassing fire from the ants nearby put down any attempt at a charge. Another hove-to above the fortress, guards jumping over the gunwales. The crew of the reserve Maxim mutually concluded that if this didn't qualify as a breach then they'd dearly love to hear Captain Skal's definition, and raked it with a full belt of three hundred rounds. The fire-dealers joined the fray and Wonderland's first ever airborne assault failed miserably, though victory turned somewhat Pyhrric when the powder magazine ignited and everybody was showered with burning timber by the ensuing explosion. The Maxim crews were knocked to the ground along with just about everyone else, and their weapons were tipped over, giving the card guards near the jetty a clear run. Fortunately, the Commander of Knaves realised what was about to happen and sent his strategic reserve leaping over the battlements to meet them. It was a savage melee, with card guard and Knave -neither gnome nor human could make the jump without broken ankles, and there was no way they'd raise the gate- fighting as much to settle old scores as anything else. The only assault to make any headway worth mentioning was through the small and rather pointless side door Alice had originally used to infiltrate the fortress. The small platform outside it was still in situ, though they'd have cheerfully dynamited it off if they'd had the equipment, and several platoons of guards were offloaded under heavy fire. Once they'd broken down the door they dispersed through the interior of the walls to eventually be dispatched in brutal close-quarters-battle.

When the Maxims were put back into action -no small endeavour, for when fully erected on their tripod mounts they needed three men to lift- it was established beyond all doubt that the battle could not be won, and the card guards withdrew to nurse their wounds and consider their next move.

"So far so good," Jeremy concluded. "Unless they decide to stand off and bombard us we can hold this place for years. So what was the butcher's bill?"

"Three dead and a dozen wounded, mostly burns. We'll last a while yet, I'll wager. What the hell-?"

"Screamers!" somebody yelled. Jeremy had his revolver out and pointed skywards, and snapped off a round at the creature. Alice fired both her pistols, bringing it down. _So they are in the Queen's pay_, she mused, never having made her mind up as to whether the vile things were working for the Queen or merely an unpleasant natural predator. The dozen creatures were easily despatched by fire-diamonds and rifle rounds, and the flotilla held back still.

The Cheshire Cat appeared with a dozen crates of ammunition and a number of curious spherical items. "Grenades," Skal explained. "They're full of high explosive and have a three-second acid fuse. We use them for clearing enemy tunnels. You simply twist the cap and throw it like a cricket ball, or drop it and run."

"Handy," Alice remarked. "I was never much of a cricketer, though."

They settled in to wait. _From the short periods of sheer terror to the long periods of inactivity,_ Jeremy mused. _I know which I prefer._ They began rotating troops off the battlements by section to obtain food and rest. The gymnasium became a messhall. Jeremy wandered the great library, finding much of its contents to be relatively pedestrian. He found several volumes of adventure stories and amused himself with them. Some enterprising gnomes found the old condenser and tried brewing moonshine, but nothing in the biology lab was any use for the purpose. Boredom set in, and with it a dangerous latitude.

This was rudely shattered by a tremendous cacophony of gunfire. "They're shelling us!" somebody yelled. "All arm, all arm!' A bell began to ring. Jeremy pelted headlong for the exit, revolver in one hand and swordstick in the other.

"The gate's fallen!" Skal yelled, frantically reloading his sidearm. "Get to your fall-back position!"

"Right!"

A tidal wave of card guards poured through the wrecked gate, straight into a wall of lead from the reserve Maxim and the sentries. The fire-dealers joined the fray, causing a spectacular conflagration. "We're pushing them back!" Jeremy yelled exultantly. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut when a second broadside collapsed a section of wall. They beat a hasty retreat inside.

"It looks as though they're just going to stand off and bombard us," Skal remarked grimly. "I had assumed she wanted something from the Library, and badly enough to justify holding back from wrecking the place entirely. Against an infantry attack our prospects would be at least a talking point, but now..." A window shattered from a near miss.

"I suggest we make an orderly retreat while we still can," Alice replied. "In fact... That portal in the observatory, is it still there?"

"Yes," the old gnome replied. "Are you proposing a flanking attack?"

"Assuming she's set herself up in the Royal Residence, I am indeed. Our full force would never make it through the forests undetected, but a small picked band might have a chance."

"I suggest we arrange that once we're safely out of here," Jeremy remarked, wincing as another round hit the courtyard.

After nearly three hours of saturation bombardment, the flotilla noted with satisfaction that the defenders had ceased fire. The commander ordered a small reconnaissance force to investigate. They discerned that the fortress had indeed been evacuated, though not before every single door had been booby-trapped by a grenade with a steel ruler soldered to the cap with a Bunsen burner. The portal was still intact, but the recce group's senior officer vetoed any suggestion of entering it. "It'll only take one man at a time," he explained to his CO. "There'll be a dozen rifles pointing straight at the other end. Our chap wouldn't even have a chance to report back."

"You're right there," the senior card replied grimly. "No matter; we already know where it leads. Okay, have your lot do what they can to put this place back together; we'll deploy reinforcements as soon as we can spare some. Chances are we'll be turning Wonderland Woods upside down for a while."

"I see," the Black Queen said thoughtfully. "Well, Major, I can find no fault with your work. Send out a few platoons to search for them, but keep the bulk of our forces here. If this isn't their likely destination I don't know what is. Oh, and make sure they don't travel in anything less than section strength. We've taken enough casualties as it is."

"Looks rather different from up here," Alice remarked. "Where's Cheshire got to?"

"I sent him to pick up a few things of mine from the old family seat," Jeremy explained. "Thought they might come in handy. Recognise that house?"

"Yes. It belonged to the Duchess, but we had an altercation."

"Say no more." Jeremy stepped over the drainage ditch that had so inconvenienced Alice a few years before. "Doesn't look abandoned. I'm going to look it over."

He circled the cottage with care, revolver in hand. The curtains were drawn, and he decided to try the bell-pull. If the door was answered, the occupant would hopefully be amenable to providing some intelligence about local deployments of Card Guards, and might even offer him a cup of tea. But if this Duchess wasn't quite as dead as Alice had assumed, well...

To his surprise, the door swung open the moment he rang the bell. "Hello? Is anybody there?" With trepidation, Jeremy stepped over the threshold. He wasn't entirely surprised when it slammed shut behind him. "Look, I haven't got time for playing silly buggers. Come on, out with you!" Silence. "To hell with this!" He levelled his pistol at the lock, but glimpsed a shadow against the woodwork and spun around.

"Well, now. What brings a tasty morsel like you to my parlour?" the Duchess purred.

"As a matter of fact, I was going to ask for directions to the old Palace of Hearts, though I shan't bother now. Would you incredibly mind if I returned to my friends? We've quite a lot to do."

"Oh, no no no. It's just about lunchtime!"

"A kind offer, but I'm afraid I must decline. I'm rather late for a prior engagement."

"You misunderstand me, my pretty. Adequately prepared you'd make a marvellous aperitif."

Jeremy raised his revolver. "I understand you perfectly. Now open the damn door or I'll smear your brains all over the woodwork, you cannibalistic old hag!"

With a screech, the Duchess threw a handful of ground pepper. Jeremy was ready for her, jerking his head away and firing blindly. An oil lamp exploded, setting the carpet alight. Muttering several very unregal words, the Duchess produced a meat cleaver. Jeremy drew his sword, thrusting the scabbard into his belt beside the revolver, and lunged. She dodged, swinging the cleaver. He parried it expertly, disarming her with a flick of the wrist. A punch that Alice would have been proud of sent him staggering.

"Hey, lady! What say we continue this somewhere that isn't burning down?" he suggested, as the room was now well ablaze.

Alice heard the shot, and saw the smoke begin to rise. "Jeremy!" She ran headlong for the cottage, several others close behind. She hurled herself at the door, cursing and praying. "Cheshire! Where the hell are you?" she yelled, hammering desperately on the door. "Help him, damn you!"

The Cheshire Cat was already inside, looking for an opening to strike and trying hard to ignore the strong smell of smouldering fur. Jeremy was wrestling with the Duchess, who was holding a steak tenderiser. "Get out of the way, you fool!" he yelled. Jeremy dimly heard him, and hooked one leg around the Duchess's ankle. With a yowl, she went over. Cheshire leapt on her, but she caught him right behind the ear with the tenderiser, sending him flying. The enraged Duchess stood, and things would have looked very bad for the Cheshire Cat if Jeremy hadn't shot her through the back of the head. At this point the door suddenly flew open. Jeremy grabbed the concussed feline in one hand and the canvas bag Cheshire had been carrying in the other and dived into clear daylight before the second oil lamp on the other side of the hallway exploded.

"Well," he remarked once his rescuer had regained consciousness, "I think we'd better call it even for dropping me down that hole." The Cheshire Cat made no reply, wincing as a Knave applied ointment to his assorted burns.

Alice was sitting off to one side, face buried in her hands. Jeremy went over to her. "Alice? We're both fine. It's all right."

"I was just so _frightened_," she said quietly. "I kept remembering the fire, my parents..." she trailed off, beginning to cry. Jeremy held her, soothing her as he would a child. The others sensibly retreated. "I'm sorry," Alice said after a few moments. "I must seem like a frightened schoolgirl to you." Jeremy held her tighter.

"Oh, my beautiful, beautiful Alice. I don't think any such thing. There is no shame in feeling fear. Acknowledge it, fight it, don't let it rule you. But never think less of yourself for showing it." He straightened. "There's a change of clothes for you in the bag."

Alice pulled out a simple tan blouse and matching jodhpurs. "They're my sister's, but she only wears them for the hunts, and the season hasn't started yet. I think they'll fit you alright. Not your colour, though."

"They'll do. Ooh, what have we here?" She tossed him a Winchester lever action carbine in polished walnut. It had a telescopic sight, and was plainly a marksman's weapon.

"Fifteen rounds of .32 calibre, and accurate to within an eighth of an inch at three hundred yards with a favourable wind. Best birthday present my father ever bought me." Jeremy stroked the weapon fondly. "Shall we?"

They led a small group of half a dozen Soldier Ants and four Knaves. Jeremy led the way, carbine in his hands. The swordstick went through a loop in the specially made belt that also contained a proper holster for his pistol. He had also changed clothes, exchanging his formal dinner suit for a simple brown shirt and corduroys. He was a reluctant but reasonably proficient outdoorsman, having done his share of deerstalking and other game shooting.

He dropped to one knee at the sound of movement, raising a warning hand to the others. Very carefully, he moved forward.

A dozen card guards were variously leaning or sitting in a clearing, evidently pausing for breath in their search. Jeremy grinned, and took a grenade from the pouch at his belt. A swift underarm toss landed it right in amongst them. The _BANG_ reverberated around the forest as several hundred scraps of cardboard floated to earth.

"Good throw," Skal said admiringly. "We'd better be a long way away before they're missed, and hope the search parties are well spread out."

They made good progress, reaching the Palace grounds within half a day. No further card guard parties blocked their route... until they got there.

"Oh, wonderful. I might have expected something like this," Skal grumbled, handing Alice his field glasses. "A single skirmish line seemed rather sloppy, but where else could we be going but here?"

Jeremy examined the line of guards along the battlements with displeasure, making minute adjustments to the sights of his carbine. "Out of range for me, and it'd bring the whole dammed place down around our ears anyhow. Somehow, we have to get in covertly. How we're going to go about doing that, I've no idea."

"The maze?" the senior Knave -Sergeant Jack- suggested.

"There'll be patrols. Even if we killed them without making too much noise, there'd be all kinds of general flap when they were missed, and that place is a warren. We could still be in there when they realise something's amiss," Alice replied. "Cheshire, could you get in there undetected?"

"Perhaps. There would however be precious little I could do to get YOU in, as far as I can see."

"Here's a thought," Skal interjected. "What if we were to equip you with, say, half a dozen grenades?"

"I could leave them under Her Majesty's bed," the Cat replied enthusiastically. "An idea with _great _promise!"

"Right. And in the mean-time, I've heard rumours of some interesting new devices that Hatter's come up with which might be helpful," Skal added. "Who votes we go and take a look?"


End file.
